


Phase Two

by Cookiewrites



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookiewrites/pseuds/Cookiewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is dragged along to a strip club where he meets The Winter Soldier, a gorgeous male stripper who may save Steve's life & demand payment.</p>
<p>Or Steve is a bodyguard, The Black Window has favourite customers, and intervening in a mugging helped Steve get laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phase Two

**Author's Note:**

> Three things you may need to know before you read this.  
> 1.) This is my first Stucky/starbucks writing, and my first AU so bare with me.  
> 2.) The sex scenes are a bit awkward because I, myself am a bit awkward and I may or may not have added in a joke or two to make me feel better.  
> 3.) I was watching friends where Chandler gets dumped and Joey & Ross were talking about 'phases' in the post-dumped scene; Phase 1 was wearing sweat pants and being sad & Phase 2 was strip clubs so that's where the inspiration came from. Yeah.

Steve wasn't entirely sure how he got here.  
Okay, so it was pretty obvious how he got here. Clint had thought it was a good idea to enter 'phase 2' by Friends standard after Sam had been dumped by his girlfriend. Sam, having to explain to Steve what Friends was, and the stages of being dumped according to the males of the show, didn't even go through stage one. She was, he said, only dating him for three weeks.

  
Despite not going through the first stage of moping and sweat pants, Clint had arrived at Steve's flat while they were watching a movie on the Friday night and claimed it time for phase 2.

  
So Steve knew exactly how he ended up in a strip club called 'The Agenda' where the music was too loud and the smell was too much like sex.  
Clint, obviously a valued customer of the place, found a spot that wasn't too far away from the main stage and even had comfy seats. A red headed waitress in black booty shorts and bra placed a drink in front of him without even asking what he wanted. He looked up at her and gave a mischievous smile.  
“What can I get your friends here, Francis?” The waitress asked Clint, without even looking at the 'friends' she was talking about. Clint, in turn, didn't ask them either, and instead whispered in her ear something that Steve vaguely thought was 'beer and shots' tagged on the end of a no doubt charming pick up line.  
When she only rolled her eyes, but had a smirk on her face, Steve knew Clint definitely had a favourite.  
“'Francis'?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrow. Clint shrugged.

  
“Like I'm going to use my real name?”

  
“But 'Francis'?” Sam repeated, in the same incredulous voice.

  
“It's my middle name, jackass.” Clint said defensively, making Sam snort. Clint rolled his eyes, taking a drink and glanced over to Steve.

“Relax, Steve. You'll love the dancers when they come on.” Clint told him, after noticing how tense and out of place Steve was looking. “The redhead that's serving us? She's called Black Widow. Good reason too, she's deadly on the dance pole ...” It was then Clint starting talking about the other dances lined up for tonight on the main stage and about the time Steve stopped listening.

  
He didn't exactly care for strippers, or more especially, strip clubs. Steve worked for a private security company called SHIELD, and while Sam and Clint more behind the scenes, what with Clint being a camera security consultant and Sam being weapons check specialist, Steve was a bodyguard, and he'd escorted more than a few dirty guys with a wad of money into joints like this and seen the way the managers just let any guy with a fat pocket treat the girls like shit.  
When the lights went down for the first time, and soul music with a techno-style background started playing, the three men sat up as their eyes darted to the front.

  
The first girl on stage was beautiful. She was petite, with a golden brown that was tied in a bun and was wearing a sexy doctor outfit. Or maybe it was a scientist, complete with glasses and a too-tight-to-be-authentic lab coat. When she took it off, the whole room hooted and cat called, making Steve feel more uncomfortable. For the entire show he tried to keep his eyes on her face, looking for any signs of discomfort, which she showed none.  
By the time the second dancer came on stage, he resigned himself to just keeping his head down, having a few drinks with his friends and avoiding objectifying the dancers as much as possible.

  
And that was going well, really, until the last dancer of the night. There had been a few guys on the poles surrounding the main stage, but the main acts so far had all been women.

  
His name was the Winter Soldier (or that was what he was called). The music he danced to was different, the voice was lower and while it still had a fast beat generally … it shifted. The Winter Soldier worked with that perfectly. He had a mask on his face, but the shadow emphasised his eyes and they were almost hypnotic, or Steve supposed they would, if they glanced at anyone. His gaze was skyward, and Steve, despite his best intentions, couldn't keep his gaze entirely on his face.

  
As soon as the brunet walked out on stage there was a silence that Steve couldn't distinguish between everyone stopping talk, or the blood pumping too loud in his ears.

  
The Winter Soldier didn't strut like the others, he worked with reflexes, showing a kind of skill that was almost acrobatic. He strong thighs gripped the pole as he leaned back and stared into the crowd. Steve felt himself following the arch of the strippers body, the curve of his spine, the sharp chiselled muscles. He knew his gaze was everything he disliked about the men frequenting this place, but couldn't help it.  
When his gaze finally landed on the man's face, he felt a shock run through his body as he met the eyes of the other man. He stared at Steve with an intensity that make him shift uncomfortable.

  
Steve felt heat engulf his face and tried to look away, to look at his drink, or grin jokingly at his friends, but found himself once again trailing the lines of the man's body. The Winter Soldier continued to move in a way that kept Steve's gaze firmly planted onto where ever his body moved. When Steve glanced once again to the man's face, it had a mischievous glint that wasn't there before, but he was looking up, away from the crows once again.

  
When his show ended, Steve felt like he was waking up from a deep sleep. He looked over at Clint and Sam, who was idly chatting while watching Black Widow off stage giving a lap dance to a rowdy fella across the bar. Steve noticed that her eyes keep coming back over to his table whenever she was facing that way.  
Steve decided he was really thirsty, and drank half of his pint in one long gulp. A few strippers had taken to the main stage now, they were all dancing with each other and the main acts seemed to be making their way through the crowd. Black Widow was now sitting on Clint's lap, and both he and Sam looked equally as star stuck with her. She kept looking over to him with a smile just as devious as the one she glanced at Clint. Maybe even Black Widow had favourites too.

  
“So what should I call you, Golden boy?” Black Widow asked over Clint's head. Steve looked up from his drink, smiling at the woman and shrugged slightly.

“I – erm. Call me … Grant?” It came out as question without him meaning too, and in response, Black Widow smirked like she knew all of his secrets. He quickly looked away, but could feel how her eyes stayed on him still.

  
Looking across the room, his heart jumped to his throat as he saw The Winter Solider weaving his way through the crowd. Steve wasn't surprised when he saw The Winter Soldier walked much the same way as he danced. He seemed confident and moved easily through the crowd. At one time, one of the bar maids back out into his path and knocked into someone else. While making it seem effortless, he side stepped her, putting his hand under the tray and steadying her. He didn't even look unsteady. She said something, looking down and blushing, and Steve assumed he said something back, but for that damn mask he could see anything.

  
Suddenly, the room seemed a bit too small for Steve, and he quickly gulped down the rest of his pint and stood up.

  
“I need an early night, I think Coulson wants me to guard some low rank big pay check politician.”

“Hey man, I'll join you.” But Sam didn't exactly look like he wanted to take his gaze away from Black Widow.

“Don't worry, I've got it. See you tomorrow.” Sam looked at Steve like he was expecting to see something. He shrugged, apparently not finding it and grabbed Steve's hand as goodbye.

Steve didn't look back again before he hurried out of there, but his eyes did dart to the side, trying to find one last glance at the Winter Soldier.  
When he reached the exit and couldn't see any sign of him, Steve felt his shoulders slump slightly. He thought it was a good thing though, since he still felt uncomfortable under his jeans just remembering the masked dancer. No wonder this place was loose on the moral side, with temptation like him.  
The air outside was cold, and did wonders for his head, which had apparently been aching without him even noticing. His apartment wasn't far off, only about 20 minutes, and he liked the cold air so much he decided to just walk.

  
He'd gotten five minutes down the small alleyway when a side door opened from the back of the club. He looked back – a habit he'd picked up from protecting people as a body guard, and saw the familiar eyes of the Winter Soldier. He'd opened the door with a pack of cigarettes in his hand but he looked up, maybe feeling Steve's eyes on him. They met each other's e yes and the mischiveous glint returned. Steve was sure if he took off the mask, he'd see the brunet smirking. He turned away quickly, feeling the eyes on his back as he walked further into the darkness.

  
When he reached his apartment, he dropped his keys twice trying to get in.

  
Steve got into bed, thinking about The Winter Soldier's eyes staring at him. When he thinks about the way his thighs wrapped around the pole. Heat pooled in his lower abdominal. His hands brushed under his shirt, his eyes closing. When his hands reached the brim of his pants, he felt his dick already hardening in anticipation. His hand trailed the length of his dick, thumb rubbing the tip, forcing himself to start off slow.

  
But when his mind went back to the Winter Soldier, staring at him with his lower body wrapped tightly around the silver pole, his muscles pulled and strained in every way as sweat broke on his torso, Steve couldn't help but grabbing his dick tighter, running his hand along the shaft to slowly build up speed. He heard the moan leave his mouth but it only made him grip tighter, expelling a groan that was higher as he imagined what it would be like to admit. He could feel the sweat break on his forehead, his other hand trailed his shaft, joining the other in its pace.

  
It wasn't fair that the Winter Soldier wore that mask. Steve wanted to know what his lips looked like, he wanted to imagine his fingers tracing them before they lean forward and take his cock.

  
Steve's movements became erratic the more he thought of the lustrous lips of the stripper.  
He finally came hard, cum spurting onto his lower abdominal, cooling slowly as he waited to come down from the dizzying pleasure.  
The cum was cold and sticky when he finally pulled his pants up and rolled over onto his side. He fell asleep almost instantly, only the slightest bit of regret twinged his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

When he walked into work the next morning. Coulson, Steve's boss called him into his office. He was handed a file with Arnold Voger written on and told this was the man he would be guarding from 9 to 9. The picture in the file was an slightly older fellow with grey hairlines and the suit he wore (a dark grey) was very unflattering despite its fine fit. Coulson gave him the the strict run down as usual; the whole 'protect rather than go on offensive with threats, always get them home before you end your shift, come back to officially end your duty' It was all pretty run of the mill, and Steve had done it a hundred times before. He left will a salute and a grin, which Coulson returned, even though his grin was slightly larger.

  
Coulson always had a habit of boasting Steve's potential and abilities more than he knew he was worth, it would make Steve feel uncomfortable if he didn't have Sam and Clint always keeping his modesty in check whenever they heard Coulson's praise.

  
Steve read the file twice in the elevator. When he passed Sam on the first floor the guy looked like he hadn't slept all night. At the accusing look Steve gave him, he simply shrugged and winked, scooting past Steve's large frame into the elevator.

  
“What can I say?” He said, as he tapped his floor number. “Clint has some good tastes.” The door shut before Steve could reply, and he simply chose to shake his head. Really, how could he judge when he'd -

  
His thoughts cut off there, a flash of bright red etching it's way on his face as he kept his head down.  
This was definitely not the time.

  
The directions to Voger's house weren't very good, and Steve barely caught the place the first time round his block. It was suburban and looked like a family home, which made it worse to where he found himself later in the night.

  
Steve scouted the area, for five minutes, getting his bearings, and arrived at Voger's door right on time. The door was answered to the man in the pictures, slightly less shiny than in the photo, and he shook Steve's hand with a briefness that Steve knew all to well from previous experiences with jerk bosses.  
Truthfully, the only thing that got Steve through his appalling boring day of sitting outside of board meetings and watching Voger greet people he had never heard of was the thought that next week he'd get to do guard duty for his favourite civilian, a three year old daughter of a rich banker who always made him dance too when she went to her ballet classes.

  
Voger didn't stop moving around, greeting people and sucking up to superiors in such an obvious way Steve cringed at every false laugh to a petty joke.  
At 7:30pm, with only an hour and a half to go, Steve was driving Voger back from his office where he had stayed late.

  
Instead of taking a route Steve knew to take his client home, he'd been instructed to take a back route, and it was so eerily familiar that he was getting a really bad feeling about it. Until he'd pass The Agenda and was told to park up.

  
“You're – er- employer insisted there is total confidentiality within our agreement.” Voger stated, his arm out stretched on Steve's shoulder to be what seemed like a underlining threat. Steve put on his professonal face, tight lipped and refusing to look disapprovingly onto Voger. Despite Steve's lack of enthusiasm in the place before, it would still be hypocritical to judge this man. Plus, he was not hoping to see The Winter Soldier again.

  
“My only job is to get you home safely. You have my complete discretion, Sir.” Voger nodded, obviously pleased, and greeted the doorman like he was a frequent visitor.

  
He felt the prickle of someone watching him as he entered lounge. Voger went off to greet some unfamiliar faces that seemed very familiar to him. Steve stood to the side. He saw other bodyguards dotted around, but weren't familiar with any of them. They, to Steve intense dislike, seemed to know him, as a lot of them surreptitiously shot glares at him, before returning their gazes on their respectful client. He ignored their looks, he had a job to do, so his gaze didn't waver from his internally scheduled room sweeps and check ups, even if he was disappointed each time The Winter Soldier wasn't present in his eyesight.

  
At 8:50pm, Steve was exhausted. He knew Voger wouldn't want to give up his partying any time soon, he'd just bought a lap dance from one of the pole dancers on stage, and there was another round on him. The worse was, (not that he'd admit to himself that that was the worst part about the night) The Winter Soldier wasn't dancing tonight.Steve felt himself sag a fraction. The other bodyguards, though the private ones had taken to be more relaxed, still shot glares at Steve every time their glanced over. Steve wondered if he should have wore a different tie with the suit he was in.

  
“Two visits in two nights?Aren't we lucky?” Steve felt himself freeze at the sound of such a grating voice. It was not, in fact, the kind of grating which would make you cringe, but the kind that made you want to lean. Steve realised as soon as he thought it that the words did not match the description very well, but he could not decide a better word for the voice.

  
The voice that belonged to no other than the Winter Soldier. The man sat down across from him, his long legs stretching under the high table in plain sight for Steve to look at.

  
“Tonight I'm working.” Steve managed to cough out, after an embarrassing about of time trying not to swallow his own tongue. The Winter Soldier was dressed in navy blue shorts and a buckle waist coat that was completely undone. A gun holster with an empty beer bottle inside was attached to his thigh. The eyes were still the only thing you could see of the Winter Soldier's face, the rest covered in that god forsaken mask. Again, Steve found his thoughts wandering to the man's lips, which quickly meant he needed to look away, his schedule for sweeping the room was gone.  
Steve realised how it must have sounded by stating he was working while in a strip club when the man raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to admit to himself what a simple quirk could do to him.

  
“I'm a private bodyguard. I'm working for that guy tonight.” He pointed over where Arnold was sat, his arms around the sexy doctor/scientist from the night before. Today she was dressed as an ambulance driver.

  
“A body guard,” The man's voice was slightly muffled by the mask, but he seemed used to it, knowing just how to raise his voice to get his words across. “no wonder the guys are glaring at you, you're in the Hydra's lair, Mr America.” The Winter Soldier's voice was teasing, but his eyes contained a taint of seriousness.  
“Hydra?” Steve asked, wondering how he got so smooth over the years. He's down to telegraphic stage communication with this guy, and he doesn't even know who he is.

  
“The bodyguards. They're from a company called Hydra. They came before Shield and resent them because all of the good customers have all traded to Shield.”  
“I've never heard of them.” Steve told him, fighting the blood that rushed to his cheeks when The Winter Soldier raised another eyebrow.  
“That's because Shield stole of their customers. They aren't that great of a security service, you are Shield, right?” Steve confirmed he was.  
The Winter Solder shrugged, looking down at his sleeveless gloves and playing with a loose thread. Steve found he had to look away again sharply when he the man looked up to see him staring.

  
“So I want to know how a guy like you, who looks like he should be handing out church flyers and looks disapprovingly at anyone who insults a persons' honour, can't keep his eyes off a lowly stripper like me.” Steve's eyes snapped up again, he'd been following the toned muscles of his torso when the Winter Soldier had said that.

  
This time there was no way of stopping his blush from rising.  
“I – I -” Steve didn't have time to think of something to say that.  
“Hey, Winter, you got a request from table 7.” The bar man said, interrupting Steve from probably saying something even stupider.  
“I can't decide if I like you in that suit better or those beautifully tight fitting t shirts you wear. Come back any time, Church quire.” 'Winter' said, and even though the mask hid it, Steve knew he was smirking.

  
At 9:40pm, he arrived at Arnold Voger's house, he helped the drunk man out of the car, to his house and left, going back to SHIELD office to officially 'sign off guard duty'.

  
Sam was still there, working on some new prototype, and he didn't look up when Steve sat at his desk to fill in his completion form.  
“So not only do you work overtime, you work late on over time?” He questioned, not even looking up from his desk, where there was a new taser like weapon nestled between all the paperwork.

“I just do my job. Get them home safely, you know.”

“And what about going home early last night? You gotta let yourself have a bit of fun, man.”

  
“Luckily for me, most of the time my job is fun.”  
“Uh huh, that is such a workaholic response.” Sam shook his head, and in response, Steve rolled his eyes. After filling out the date and time he logged off and shut down his computer.  
“I'm going home. Make sure you actually get some rest, okay Sam?” Sam waved him away, looking up briefly to give him a smile before returning to his paperwork.  
“I am the epitome of a healthy work balance, Steve. Good night.” Steve, knowing that was true, left quickly. Sam usually got very irritated if was constantly interrupted on his work night.

Steve didn't return to The Agenda until two week after his last visit. He had planned to never go there again and scrub the unhealthy thoughts of The Winter Soldier from his mind.

  
The latter though, was harder after having heard Winter's voice. Even just the memory of his voice had lead to a lot of uncomfortable shifting and late nights.  
But Steve had found himself in The Agenda on the Saturday, without really wanting to be there at all. He'd been on a late night run trying to clear his head when he had run into a bunch of idiots beating up a guy in the back street behind the club, and Steve had to step in, like the idiot he was.

  
There were about six on two, and the other guy didn't seem to do any of the fighting. When an entrance cleared, he was off sprinting into the distance, two arms wrapped around a broken briefcase.

  
Steve didn't have time to frown before he was being punched in the face. He started to hit back, and felt slightly satisfied when the first of the guys fell to the floor, unconscious. He'd knocked three out when one of them pulled out a knife. It was harder to fight back when a scuffle turned into a potential murder. He knocked the fourth one against a drain pipe, having to turn away to do so, everything telling him his back should not be to the guy with the knife.  
It wasn't until he heard the sound of a choked off breath and a body hit the floor that he had time to turn around.

  
“When I said come back any time, I didn't mean bring your friends.” The Winter Soldier smirked, twirling the knife that was previously in the thugs hand, through his fingers. Steve stared, because the Winter Soldier was smirking, actually smirking. His mask was around his neck and a cigarette was precariously balanced between his teeth. Steve felt a whole new wave of adrenaline as he realised Winter's lips were far more seductive than he'd imagined.

  
The Winter Soldier caught the look and lifted an eyebrow in a perfectly taunting way. Steve almost couldn't stand it.

  
The gaze was broken when they heard a glass bottle skid across tarmac, and they looked up in time to see the sixth guy running off into the night.  
“I- I should probably go after him.” Steve said, but he didn't move. Winter removed the cigarette from his lips, allowing his smirk to tug further over his lips. Steve found that awfully distracting.

  
“You probably should.” He stated, looking after the guy. He glanced back at Steve though, with a devilish grin.  
“But my apartment is the other way, and I feel someone needs to be thanked for saving your life.” Winter held out his hand, and Steve didn't even have to think about grabbing the hand, he was already being hauled into the dark street.

  
In hindsight, they managed to get into Winter's apartment complex before their hands were on each other. Steve couldn't remember who moved first but he was suddenly grabbing the other man by the waist, pulling him in. Winter had his arms around Steve's neck, his lips finding Steve's neck and biting, licking and kissing all the way down from ear to where his t-shirt started. That was ripped, and Winter continued further down.

  
Steve was pushed into the first set of doors in the complex, in cracked under his weight, startling a breath of laughter that made them break apart.  
“I'm going to have to pay for that.” Winter told him, dragging him past the door and into the stairway.  
“Don't worry about me.” Steve muttered pulling Winter into a quick kiss. “I'm fine.”

  
The Winter Soldier smirked.  
His apartment was on the first floor, thankfully, and opening the door used up all the patience of both of them. He didn't even get a chance to glance around.  
Clothes flew off, the sound of torn clothes and Steve fell onto a bed, not as soft as his, but the firmness of the mattress wasn't really a priority right now.  
“Bucky.” Winter said, pulling Steve's belt off slowly, changing the pace of the whole scene. Steve raised a questioning eyebrow, to which Winter returned.  
“My name is Bucky, just so you have something to moan.” Steve did moan as Bucky's hand slid across his pants, ones which were straining as his dick grew harder with Bucky's every movement.

  
“Is that a kinky thing?” Steve asked, before really thinking about it. He felt a blush build up to his cheeks.  
“My name,” Bucky's voice was lower, and he finally removed Steve's boxer to reveal his cock fully hard against his abdominal. “is James Buchanan Barnes.” Steve paused, looking up at through his eyelashes.

  
“Like the president?” There was a groan in response.

  
“We need to work on your bedroom talk.” Instead of answering, Steve pulled Bucky closer to him by his own boxers, pushing them down to see what he'd been fantasising about for two weeks.

  
And damn, Bucky's dick looked even better than the fantasies.

  
Bucky trailed kisses down Steve, using his teeth to scratch slightly as he passed his hips. Steve felt himself start to buck up, and Bucky's hands clamp down on his hips, nails digging in in a way that made a moan slip out of Steve's mouth.

  
When Bucky sucked Steve's thigh, so close to his cock he felt dizzy, he gasped.  
“My name's Steve.” Steve managed to get out, making Bucky look up. “y'know – for something to mo- Bucky!” Bucky took Steve in his mouth, licking the head before slowly making his way down until his nose was pressed against the curly hair at the base of Steve's cock.

  
Bucky looked up at him through his eyelashes, the pure lust in his eyes and the feel of his lips around his dick made Steve curse a hundred different ways, his back arching upwards to just – try to do anything to increase the feeling.

  
“Bucky, if you don't fuck me right now I swear to God...” Steve could feel Bucky laughing around his dick, the vibrations forcing him to close his eyes because god damnit how the hell was he suppose to last lying in a gorgeous stripper's bed with a mouth like that?  
Buck pulled off him with an obscene pop.

  
“The draw.” Steve looked up, finding the bedside table and pulling open the draw, throwing the bottle of lube at the man.  
Steve turned over, his ass in the air. Bucky coated his fingers in the lube, pressing one against Steve's hole but not pushing in. Steve felt himself push back, swearing as Bucky continued to tease his hole.  
His gasp was the loudest yet when Bucky pushed in, the hot sting of pain that had him rubbing against the bed sheets for friction as Bucky worked him open, adding another finger.

  
And when Bucky's fingers brushed against Steve's prostate, he flat out moaned.  
“Jesus Christ, Buck. Hurry up.” Getting impatient, Steve huffed. “I'm ready, fuck, Bucky, I'm ready.”  
When the head of Bucky's cock pushed in, he could hear the other man's moan.

  
“Oh god, Stevie, you feel so good.” He paused, waiting for Steve to say he was good. After a moment, he saw Steve nod.  
“Move, Buck.” Bucky pulled out slowly, building up speed until he was thrusting into him, the sound of flesh against flesh drowned out by their pants.  
“Oh god Stevie, you're so tight. Damn.” Bucky moaned. Steve, couldn't reply, repeating Bucky's name like a prayer. Bucky felt heat pooling at the base of his cock, he reached around and stroked Steve's dick, smearing the pre-come with his thumb.  
“Jesus, Steve I'm gonna-”  
“Come for me, Buck.” His thrusts had become erratic, he felt his balls tighten and managed to call out Steve's name just before he was spilling into him. Bucky sped up his strokes, whispering in Steve's ear how good he looked just before Steve's came, white spurts landing over his chest and on the sheets. Slowly, Bucky pulled out of him, he lay on the bed, sticky and sweating, breathing hard.  
“Fuck.” Bucky sighed, feeling Steve lie down next to him. Steve nodded in reply and they lay there.  
Bucky's eyes were already starting to close. Steve felt his eyes shut too, and they fell asleep.

Steve woke up to an empty bed. He rolled over, groaned and put his head in his arms. He heard a pair of feet padding towards him and smelled coffee. Bucky was holding a mug in one hand, and he seemed to notice Steve being awake.  
“I don't usually, y'know. Do this kind of thing.” Steve said, feeling red rise to his cheeks.  
“No kidding.” Bucky replied, looking at his amused.  
“I just – ah”  
“I don't usually take men home from the club, if that's what you're thinking.” Steve felt his eyes widen.  
“No, I don't – I didn't” He looked, lost a little. “I'm tired, okay?”

  
“You can stay, if you want.” Bucky said, not quite meeting Steve's eyes, like he expected the blond to run. Steve looked up, smiling slightly, nearly forgetting to answer when he caught sight of the other man in just a bed cloth, a slither of his torso peaking out from under the sheet.  
“If I go now, who's going to apologise for the door we smashed on our way in?” Steve teased, his smile widening when Bucky's face lit up.  
“Goody two shoes Steve? You'll probably insist on fixing it.”

  
“Mhmm”  
“That means you'll probably have to stay around for a while.” Steve finally managed to pull his gaze away from the man's body to look in his eyes.  
“I guess you're stuck with me."

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me: buckmebuchanan.tumblr.com


End file.
